Love Recognized
by xAstoriainmyDreamsx
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have always loved each other. Follow their versions of the story throughout their Hogwarts years. Will they ever discover how they feel about each other? Or is it too late for them to find true love?


Harry Potter first fell in love with Draco Malfoy the first day he saw him in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Despite the rude insults to his family and friends there was something about the boy's voice that made Harry not want to turn away. When the boy drawled, "I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Harry couldn't stop the grin from consuming his face.

Draco's smile was another thing that drew Harry to him, not the smirk he nearly always wore, but that rarely present genuine smile. It was there that first day, and it was a while before Harry saw it again, but whenever Draco smiled Harry knew that things would be okay. The times when Draco smiled the most were when he was flying. Harry knew that they felt the same about it, the freedom and joy from speeding through the air was something Harry always wished they could do together. But Harry did not realize this love until much later.

Draco Malfoy cannot remember a time when he **wasn't** in love with Harry Potter, the very sight of him made him weak. Draco remembered growing up with stories of how Harry Potter murdered the Dark Lord, the fairest ruler of them all. He was supposed to hate this Harry Potter, but he admired him instead. If this boy, as a baby could defeat someone as powerful as the Dark Lord then maybe, someday, this boy could free Draco from his imprisoning lineage. Harry Potter became his guide in childhood; he would ask himself 'what would Harry do?' He would have conversations with Harry, telling him of why he hated his family, of the things they did to him. Draco poured himself into this imaginary Harry, told him of his father scolding him when he asked what good things the Dark Lord did, of how he wasn't allowed to have emotions, of how he hated being a Malfoy. But Draco allowed Harry emotions, and in childhood Harry loved Draco, so Draco loved Harry.

When Draco met Harry on the train he called him Potter, not that he wanted to, but Harry was too personal, too secret to share, even with the actual person himself. He really did want to be Harry's friend, but later cursed himself and his family for having no manners. Draco realized what a jerk he had been all his life, but he couldn't change it because he had to be a _Malfoy_. When Harry called Draco "Malfoy" it hurt, it actually hurt. To Draco, Harry was the one person who knew how much he hated his family. Every time Harry called Draco "Malfoy" he saw red, he attacked, and he couldn't help it, because his only true friend hated him.

Draco loved Harry's eyes, a piercing green that shone brightly against his dark black hair. Draco loved catching those eyes on him, and he loved the delicious blush that broke out every time he caught Harry staring. Draco loved Harry's bravery, it was exactly as he had always imagined it to be, and it was perfect.

In first year they went into the Forbidden Forest and Harry was confused by the waves of emotion he kept experiencing. When he heard he wasn't going with Draco his stomach dropped, he chalked it off as disappointment that the chance to torment his nemesis was missed.

Draco wanted to stay with Harry, his brave savior. But instead of blurting, "I get Harry!" he chickened out, calling for Fang instead. Alone with Neville he decided to frighten him in hopes that Harry would come. Draco knew that Harry would be furious with him when he came, but Draco loved the passion in Harry's voice when he was angry. And Harry did come, and it was so worth it.

When Harry saw the red sparks from Neville and Draco he tensed. He wanted to think it was because he knew that Neville was hurt, but only one name echoed through his head, '_Draco, Draco, he can't be hurt, no, Draco…_" Then he was with Draco, and so happy. As he watched the blonde boy shake in fear he longed to reach out and comfort him; to hold his hand. _Hold his hand?!_ What in _bloody hell_ did that mean?

He felt a stab of betrayal when Draco left him in the clearing alone with the ghostly figure, to almost certain death, but he could not explain the feelings, so he ignored them. But Draco had left him to get help, knowing that he would be useless to Harry.

When they came back to the clearing with the unicorn Draco nearly burst into tears, Harry wasn't there, what had happened to Harry? Had he killed Harry? Had he left him to die? Then Draco saw the boy ride in on a centaur, a bloody centaur! They _never_ let humans ride them, the proud creatures. But Draco wanted to do a dance, to go and sweep Harry up in a hug. Luckily Draco managed to quash any urges to go and hug Harry in relief by making himself overcome with jealousy, when really he didn't care, Harry was _alive_. But he knew that they were to be enemies, so he kept up the act, taking out made-up frustrations on Harry, whom he loved.

All through second year Harry fought the strange urges he had around Draco, lashing out at him because of the feelings he created, Malfoy made Harry _so angry_. Harry was never actually mad at Draco; he was just so frustrated with the fact that he couldn't control his own emotions around the boy. The funny thing was, as soon as Harry thought about the one person who got him so riled up in the first place; as soon as Harry thought about his smile, or his quick tongue Harry grinned, hugely and uncontrollably. During the Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch match Harry was having so much trouble focusing on the Snitch with Draco around that with the added stress of the bludger it is a wonder he made it out alive. When he raced past Draco to get the Snitch it took all of his self-control not to swerve just to the left and… what? Harry didn't even know; he just knew that he wanted it.

Knowing that Harry was in the hospital ward made Draco felt terrible, he blamed himself. So Draco snuck into the shadows of the darkened ward that night, using a mild disillusionment charm to hide his lean figure. Then he saw Dobby, his own house elf, with Harry Potter -Harry-Bloody-Potter- Draco was extremely pleased; at least some_thing_ in his family had good taste. That is until he heard about the bludger, and the passageway to platform 9 ¾. Then Draco wanted to strangle the beast, as Harry seemed to want to do too. The bloody elf had almost murdered Harry! And Lockhart didn't help things either, what Lockhart did to Harry caused Draco to forever hate him. And Draco had made plans to meet and talk to Harry on the train to Hogwarts, if only to see Harry's handsome face go red in anger at his appearance. That reaction was only ever meant for Draco, it was so endearing, and it gave Draco hope.

Draco could act like he hated Harry for getting all of the points, and the Sorcerer's Stone, and saving Ginny, and winning the House Cup, but he didn't. These actions only made Draco love Harry more. Draco wasn't even jealous that Harry, a Gryffindor, had found and opened the Chamber of Secrets. Draco just wanted Harry to show him, he wanted it to be their special place.

Third year was difficult for Harry. Coming back from a summer away from Draco Harry would have given nearly anything to see the blonde boy again, to fight with him, to hex him, to caress him… but no, Harry forced himself to stay in reality, he never divulged into his unexpected fantasies, he was afraid of just where they would go. When Harry met Draco on the train he nearly smiled, but quickly remembered that he was supposed to hate the blonde boy and replaced it with a scowl. Harry only pointed out Professor Lupin so that Draco might make pleasant conversation, or apologize. Harry so badly wanted to hear the words 'I'm so sorry,' formed with Draco's mouth, Draco's lips, Draco's tongue… not because of their direct meaning, but the vulnerability they proved was present. Harry wanted to be able to touch Draco that deeply, but he shoved that thought aside too. Harry could not withhold his expression of deep disappointment when Draco strutted away from them towards the way he came, and so disguised it with a look out the window as Ron and Hermione quarreled.

By third year Draco wanted to be done pretending that he hated Harry, he longed to tell his love the truth, but he couldn't, he just wasn't brave enough. Draco was a true Slytherin. Draco wasn't willing to risk their few minutes of conversation every day, even if it was for a fight.

When Draco saw Harry on the train he wanted to tell him so badly. He wanted to scream, "I love you Harry Potter!" But he couldn't. So instead he engaged Weasley in a verbal fight, watching Harry's eyes alight with passion subtly. But when Harry pointed out the teacher with them Draco backed off, it was such a clear dismissal that Harry might as well have just told him that he hated Draco.

The attack by Buckbeak scared Harry half to death, for a few seconds Harry had actually thought that Draco was mortally injured. Thankfully, no one noticed the expression of fear upon Harry's countenance in the rush to help Hagrid get Draco out. That night after visiting Hagrid and reassuring him Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and snuck out to the hospital wing. Harry watched him sleep, quite fitfully actually. Draco didn't talk in his sleep, but he tossed and turned. Harry watched the emotions play on his face; anger, fear, confusion, grief, and Harry's favorite: happiness. For a whole ten minutes Draco smiled, he even laughed once, although Harry heard no joke, Harry wished Draco would always smile like that.

Just before dawn Harry snuck back into his bed, everyone else was completely unaware that he had been gone nearly the entire night.

Draco didn't want to make that big of a deal about being attacked; it barely hurt more than a regular fall. The only reason he yelled so much in the first place was to see how Harry reacted, it was a test; the beast had only scratched him anyway. But Hagrid had gotten in the way and Draco didn't get to see how Harry felt. Then, of course, Lucius had to hear about the whole thing and immediately made sure that Draco milked every last drop from his injury, he ordered Draco to fake it… or else. Draco didn't want to at all, he actually respected the half-giant; Harry liked him well enough anyway.

Harry dragged through that day, only feeling happy when Draco was gone at supper again; he would sleep in the infirmary that night. In the starlit hospital Harry watched Draco again, jumping up whenever he thought he saw pain on the boy's face, but sinking back in his chair when he realized that nothing was the matter. Wednesday night Harry snuck back in again, on his way he realized that he no longer felt guilty, he just wanted to see Draco again; he would die if he couldn't see Draco again.

Harry sank into a chair beside Draco's bed, watching the emotions play on his pale face. Tonight was different though; there was a new emotion. An emotion that took Harry a long time to place. And tonight Draco mumbled, nothing intelligible, but he seemed to be having a conversation, with himself or someone else Harry wasn't sure, maybe both. Harry tried desperately to figure out what scene was playing in his mind. At first Draco was mumbling quietly, so quietly that Harry barely knew he was talking, the emotion on his face was passive, and then angry. Like the anger that Harry felt when certain feelings sprang up around Draco. Then Draco mumbled louder, Harry imagined him talking to someone else. There was anger in his voice, but his face shown his true feelings of longing. Harry had begun to form an extremely unlikely story of what was happening in his head:

_Draco was angry at himself, because he couldn't seem to stay angry at Harry, so he tried to think of reasons why he would be mad at Harry. He told these to Harry. For a few seconds the lies worked, and then Draco's face betrayed him, he couldn't hide his feelings that well. The pause that came next was Harry experiencing a similar failure at lying, and then they just stared at each other. The emotion that Harry had such difficulty placing was love and lust, tied together in a teenage fantasy. This emotion was on both of their faces. Harry imagined next that he strode forward, placing one hand on Draco's face, they leaned in together…_

But their lips didn't meet. Because Draco seemed to be a little bit ahead of Harry and began twisting the sheets in his hands. The look of pure vulnerability on Draco's face made Harry almost collapse, he hadn't noticed that he was now standing right next to Draco's bed. Then Draco seemed to look up, love shining from his face; the next word he uttered wasn't mumbled, wasn't unintelligible at all.

Draco whispered in a husky, shaking voice, "Harry."

That one word was almost the death of Harry, he couldn't stand, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. All that Harry saw was Draco sitting next to him, asleep with the most gorgeous expression on his face. All that Harry knew was that he needed to be closer to this boy, he needed to touch him. Harry needed him, and so Harry grasped the boy's hand and held on to it. But this wasn't enough, he needed more. Harry cautiously sat down on the edge of Draco's cot and began running his fingers up and down Draco's arm. Harry watched a grin expand on Draco's mouth, and nearly melted, this was what he had been wanting so badly.

As dawn began to break Harry withdrew his hand and stopped his fingers. But Harry needed to tell Draco something that he may never tell the boy while they were conscious. So Harry placed one hand on Draco's chest and leaned forward, all the way to his ear. When Harry was almost touching his lips to Draco's ears Harry murmured, "I love you Draco, I always will." Draco shivered, but so did Harry as he touched his lips once beneath Draco's earlobe. Harry got up and swept from the room, a smile on his face, Draco had dreamed about him, and Harry got to be with Draco all night.

Draco had woken early that morning, as soon as his dream ended, where it always did, with him and Harry being forehead to forehead after the best bloody kiss of his existence. But he felt a hand in his, a warm body against his legs, and fingers stroking his arm, and it felt _so good_. He didn't want to ruin it, he couldn't bear to. Draco felt the grin; he couldn't stop it, the person next to him breathed just like Harry, felt just like Harry, _smelled_ just like Harry, and Draco was so glad when the person didn't stop.

After a while Draco was finding it difficult not to purr; the motion felt perfect, and then it stopped. But before Draco could react he felt a warm hand on his chest, stopping his heart. Soon there was hot breath fanning across his face, and a voice distinctly Harry's said, "I love you Draco, I always will." And then kissed his jaw. Draco shivered involuntarily, but could not turn his head to the side to capture those tempting lips with his own, he was in shock. The whole time Draco had felt the person next to him he had assumed it was Pansy Parkinson, and never Harry, the person he so wished it was. And even if it was Harry, for him to tell Draco that he loved him? To kiss him? Draco didn't dare allow himself to believe in such lies, and that had possibly cost him the only chance to ever let the truth out.

From then on it seemed impossible to find Harry alone. Draco supposed that it had always been that way, but Draco had never needed to find Harry alone. It was actually safer for everyone if they weren't alone, because they would either a; get into a fight, or b; not be able to control their feelings and end up making out or something and causing just about the largest school scandal ever. Of course no one knew that option b existed, except for Harry and Draco.

Their fights became half-hearted, and nearly everyone noticed. Draco would yell at Harry for only a few words and then take five minutes to calculate a come-back because he had been desperately trying to understand what was going on behind the mask of anger on Harry's face. Most of the time Harry turned away to his friends when this happened, and then quickly escaped to his dorm to think about the near non-existent conversation. Draco and Harry began to despise themselves, and, Draco especially, lashed out at others. Draco had more dreams, and Harry was losing the will to stop his fascinations. Every time one of them was pulled out of one, or woke up, or realized that it couldn't ever happen, they grew furious. Harry was soon banging his head against the wall, and Draco couldn't stand to even look at anyone other than Harry. Everyone around Draco didn't notice a difference, or care enough to ask. Everyone around Harry chalked it off as fear from Sirius Black; Harry couldn't have cared less about Sirius Black.

The hate grew easier to create in their fights, and Draco gave up trying to figure Harry out. They both gave up. They both felt hatred… but only of themselves.

The love never grew easier to handle, to ignore, to turn away from. But each managed in their own way.

Harry cried, and cried, but no one heard, no one saw, no one knew. At school he used a muffling spell behind his closed curtains at night. At home he took it out on Dudley, who had just thought that Harry finally realized how much power he had.

Draco hated everyone. He didn't speak, he didn't smile or laugh, he didn't look at people… he had grown into the perfect Malfoy, and he loathed himself. Draco wrote. He wrote love letters. He wrote love poems. He wrote love songs. Draco even wrote a billion ways of how he would tell Harry what he felt. Some were in the hospital wing, some by the lake, some on the Quidditch field. But Draco never handed one to his owl, instead he stuffed them in his Muggle notebooks, under floorboards, and in his pillowcase.

The years went on like this, 3rd year, 4th year, 5th year, and 6th year all passed. Draco no longer attempted to get Harry alone, as he entered the TriWizard tournament and his fame grew Draco knew that Harry would never settle for someone as low as Draco Malfoy.

People even around Harry didn't notice anymore, the silent Harry was Harry, there wasn't some other one hiding inside, otherwise he would have come out by now… right? Harry could be happy, and was around his friends, when surrounded by people, when pestered, when the music was loud and the talking was aplenty. But Harry still cried, and Harry hated being alone, but he would rather be alone than in silence of three. When Harry was alone he used a muffling spell so that he could play loud music to drown everything else out. But this didn't work at night, so Harry slipped off into dreams that would make him want to die in the morning. '_Better to die in the bright morning than in the dark night_,' he told himself.

Draco stayed the same, and no one noticed, or cared.

But Dobby noticed; Dobby knew everything. Draco had always been kind to Dobby, especially after 2nd year. And Dobby loved Harry Potter. And Dobby was tired of the both of them being so downhearted. So Dobby grabbed one of Draco's letters, a favorite from under the pillow, and tied it to the leg of Em. Draco had called the owl Emerald, because of Harry's eyes, and the green and silver of Slytherin, his parents had been 'happy' at least.

Harry received the letter.

_My Dearest Harry,_

_2,853 times I have written you. And 2,853 times I have hid the papers from your sight. I am done hiding them. I am done with waiting; nothing has changed for three and a half years. Please, I can't hide, I can't wait, and I can't stand not holding your face. I love you. I loved you from the second I heard of you. But then I met you. I fell head over heels for you. You were more than I had ever dreamed of, you were more perfect than I thought possible. But I hid it. I made excuses not to tell you. I was a cowardly Slytherin. I am a cowardly Slytherin. In third year you visited me in the hospital wing. The third night I had a dream. When I woke you were there, holding me, stroking me, sitting next to me. You told me you loved me… I never got a chance to reply, you were gone when I opened my eyes. So here I send you a letter, a wimpy, cowardly letter, asking for forgiveness. Please let me hope again, let me live again, let me love you, forever._

_With much love,_

_Draco_

Harry cried tears of joy as his eyes memorized the short correspondence.

Harry could never reply. Dobby had sent the letter too late. It was the night he left that he received the letter, and Hedwig had died that night. Em had fled as soon as the letter was off, sensing the tense and looming atmosphere surrounding Harry. Harry was in hiding. Harry could do nothing. Harry cried, he used to feel ashamed, but now it was a necessary part of his day, he could not go on without mourning the loss of Draco. It didn't even matter that he had almost killed Dumbledore; Harry seemed to understand that which he didn't know. It was like he knew that Draco hadn't wanted to, like Harry subconsciously knew that Draco would never kill anyone unless forced.

Harry kept the letter in his moleskin pouch.

Draco hadn't allowed himself to think of Harry since the end of sixth year. Not consciously anyway. Draco couldn't bear the thought of anyone finding out about him now; he was already walking on thin ice with the Death Eaters since he failed to murder Dumbledore. He hadn't wanted to. He could even tell that the old man wouldn't have held it against him, but Harry would have. Harry would have hated him. And secretly Draco had always respected the old man, Draco enjoyed being in his headmaster's castle, safe from Voldemort. Draco knew all about Legilimency, and he knew that Voldemort was amazing at it. He would be murdered on the spot if Voldemort found out about this secret.

Draco sat in a silver and black chair. Draco stared at the enchanted blue and silver flames before him. Draco thought about anything other than Harry. This is, after all, the best place in the house for that. In the living room, where he can listen to all other conversations instead of the ones inside his head. In the only spot where there is no green to make him think of Harry's eyes. Most of the time the fire is green and silver, but when Draco is there it is blue and silver. No one bothers anymore with asking him why. His father has given up telling him that he is a Slytherin, not a bloody Ravenclaw and changing it back. When Draco is there the flames are blue, unless someone wants to experience the Cruciatus Curse.

"Visitors, Sir Lucius, Madam Narcissa, and Sir Draco!" The enchanted purple walls spoke to those in the room.

"State your purpose!" Lucius Malfoy growled. Draco focused on the conversation, trying to keep himself in the living room, when he wanted to go upstairs and write. He hadn't written in so long. Draco wanted to live in his Harry fantasies again, he didn't want to hide, but he needed to.

"We've got Potter! We've captured Harry Potter!" Draco recognized the scratchy voice of Fenrir Greyback immediately.

"Open," Lucius said, guarded excitement in his voice. Draco refused to turn around. Draco was now trying desperately to Obliviate himself or something; he couldn't bear the following disappointment. This had happened two times before, and every time Draco had just been devastated to find a group of hopeful Snatchers grasping a boy who happened to have a scar on his lip or had called himself Harry in fright.

But Draco found his hearing clearer than ever as the words from the hall settled themselves into his mind.

"What is this?" Draco heard his mother's dagger-like voice.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" rasped Greyback.

"Who are you?"

"You know me! Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" the lack of recognition caused fury to rest beneath his words.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" an unrecognizable voice groveled. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am-"

A pause. Draco refused to believe it.

"Bring them in." _No, not in here, not now, please_.

They were coming; Draco's silent pleas did nothing.

"What is this?" Draco rose with his father, catching sight of a group of prisoners. One of them was indeed Hermione Granger, and another, Ron Weasley.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa Malfoy replied, Draco couldn't help but notice that their relationship was painfully businesslike. "Draco, come here."

Draco saw the jet black hair, and barely needed more, that was either a reincarnation of James Potter, or Harry. Draco would not give him up, and Draco couldn't look any closer if he wanted to, not while there were witnesses. But the shining, pink face did not look like Harry's, the hair was too long, his eyes were hidden, Draco could not see their color.

"Well, boy?" Greyback never was the patient type.

But there were his glasses… there were his Muggle clothes of choice. Draco knew it was him, but his father could not know. The hex on Harry's face would fade; Draco needed Harry safe, out of this house and away from Voldemort.

"Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?" Lucius might as well have had a wand to Draco's chest.

"I can't-I can't be sure," said Draco. Draco needed a plan, soon…

The adults fought, and Draco thought, absently looking at Harry.

"-Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?" Draco was forced by his father to look right into those beautiful green eyes. Draco wanted to kiss those swollen lips, but Harry's life was on his next words.

"I don't know," he said, he walked back to the safety of his blue flames.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Draco's mother took his place in the circle. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord… they say this is his"- the wand was not Harry's-"but it does not resemble Ollivander's description…. If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback showed Hermione to them, throwing Harry away, Draco winced, but was glad Harry was out of the limelight.

"Wait, yes-yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the _Prophet_! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?" Narcissa dragged her son toward the prisoners once more.

"I… maybe…yeah." He couldn't say no, his mother had recognized her.

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius shouted, looking at the redheaded boy. "It's them, Potter's friends-Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name-?"

"Yeah. It could be." Draco turned away, he was losing. Draco heard his aunt finally make her grand entrance.

"What is this? What's happened Cissy?" Draco had no interest in his demented aunt, she killed Harry's only true family member. Everyone here had all seen Sirius for what he had been, and he was never a Death Eater. Draco stared into the flames, picturing Harry, he had to save him.

"_Stupefy! Stupefy!_" Bellatrix had already started a fight.

Draco dragged the men outside for her, he wouldn't kill them, hopefully they would have the sense to wake up and run away. Draco could hear Hermione screaming from the inside. He shuddered and walked into the room, Hermione lay on the ground, Bellatrix over her with a knife.

Harry was gone.

"But we can find out easily!" Lucius's eyes snapped over to his son, "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Draco reluctantly trudged down the steps toward his love's prison.

"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" Draco's voice shook, he wanted nothing more than to Disapparate with Harry far, far away. But Draco was determined to keep his mind, he couldn't blow his cover. He opened the door and grabbed the goblin before slamming the door behind them. He thought he heard the echo of another noise as he ascended the stairs, and Ron nearly screamed something, but Ron had been screaming, so Draco brushed it off.

Draco deposited the goblin clumsily at Bellatix's feet. He turned his look of hatred to the heap of flesh instead of his aunt who deserved it as she tortured Harry's friend once again.

_Crack_.

Hope swelled in Draco's chest, he unconsciously started downstairs to see if they had really managed to escape the cellar. Merlin knows Harry would be the one to.

"What was that? Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?" Lucius looked frightened. "Draco-no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!" Draco caught his expression and returned his countenance to its normal stoic state as he snapped his fingers for the rat that killed Harry's parents.

The drawing room was silent as they monitored Wormtail's descent.

"Stand back," he wheezed. "Stand away from the door, I am coming in." They heard the door open.

Silence.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Lucius called, his brow furrowed.

"Nothing! All fine!" Bellatrix returned to her business. Draco felt a wave of disappointment, things were not fine, Harry was about to die, in his house.

"Well? Is it the true sword?" A drop of sweat sneaked its way out onto Bellatrix's forehead.

"No, it is a fake," the goblin said.

"Are you sure? Quite sure?"

"Yes." The goblin held the sword possessively as Bellatrix sighed in relief.

"Good," and just for good measure she sliced the goblin yet again with her wand, he fell to his knees. Draco shook off his anger, he needed to focus, he could just Apparate away with Harry when he was sent to bring them up… then he would have to go into hiding… from the Dark Lord himself. As long as Harry was safe it didn't matter.

"And now," Bellatrix pulled up her sleeve, "we call the Dark Lord!" Everyone saw the gleam in her eye as she touched the mark and it writhed on her skin. "And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her." The woman was in ectasy at the thought of her master coming. She may as well have skipped around the room.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron Weasley burst into the room, wand drawn. Bellatrix grasped her own wand- "_Expelliarmus_!" the wand flew right into Harry's hand. Everyone else joined in the battle.

"_Stupefy_!" Draco watched with satisfaction as Harry downed Lucius. Draco's shot missed on purpose.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix had the knife to Hermione's throat. "Drop your wands," she whispered, everyone's eyes on her. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!" The boys stood.

"I said, drop them!" Beads of blood appeared on Hermione's throat.

"All right!" Harry shouted, the wands clattered to the floor.

"Good! Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming Harry Potter! Your death approaches!" Draco scooped up the wands, he was running out of time, he needed a distraction…

"Now," Draco couldn't believe she talked yet again. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

Before Draco could sneer at her there was a grinding noise from above them. The chandelier fell towards them, nearly crushing Bellatrix, '_if only_' Draco thought. The crystal shattered, cutting his face, he couldn't save Harry like this…

He felt the wands being torn from his grip, he smiled, Harry _would_ get away; he always did. "Good luck," Draco breathed after Harry, he could have sworn Harry turned around and winked at him before stunning the werewolf with a triple spell. Before Draco could recover himself they were gone, safe.

Another loud _crack_ came mere seconds later; the Dark Lord had arrived.

In that split second where Harry's adrenaline was pumping and everything was clearer than ever before his mind went to Draco's letter that he had never returned. Harry heard Draco say "Good luck," in that awestruck voice, and he managed to respond with a wink as he made his escape. When they got out of all of this they would finally be together. But there was a nagging feeling deep inside Harry, as if the letter was a joke.

But no, Harry couldn't let that be, that letter was what got him through each day. Draco wouldn't do something so cruel, would he?

Yes. He would.

Harry loved him anyway. If only he could say so…

Draco grasped onto that last smile and wink with everything he had. Draco knew that the Dark Lord was seconds from possibly killing them all, but all he thought about was Harry's face, it had recovered its natural form before they had all left. He may not see Harry again. That was their most loving exchange ever, and it was possibly their last. But both boys used that second to keep them afloat, to keep them fighting, for love or against Voldemort neither knew. Maybe both. At any rate, they were both worth fighting for.

So Harry buried his loyal, loved elf. Draco tasted death at the hand of his master. They both cried that night, but not for the reason anyone would ever guess. Harry regretted not grabbing Draco's hand as they escaped, Harry was sure that Voldemort would now kill him. But Harry needed Draco to be alive, and Draco needed Harry to be alive. So even though Harry's scar was prickling with Voldemort's anger, even though Draco had watched that knife fly toward Harry, they believed the impossible. You may call it a selfish act, but when nothing can keep you up except lies, maybe selfish lies are the right choice.

After all, Harry was supposed to save his world.

After all, Draco was supposed to carry on his lineage.

After all, wouldn't you call it still selfish if they killed themselves?

She was throwing herself on him, forcing their lips together; running her hands through his hair. Draco struggled not to gag. He couldn't even act half-convincingly. His mind was obviously elsewhere, but Pansy Parkinson was milking his lack of response for as long as he allowed. He had no will to move. His mind was too focused on not thinking. Not thinking of Harry, of how he must be dead, of how he couldn't be, of how Harry hated him, of how he needed to stop thinking about Harry.

After at least 20 minutes Pansy finally got bored of having her way with him. She acted as though she had just noticed Draco's lack of response.

"Draco Malfoy, what is wrong? Why won't you kiss me?" She was right in his face, her revolting breath suffocating him. Her hands rested almost threateningly on his chest. Draco hated hearing his last name, but Pansy would rather call him Malfoy than anything else. She was proud of his lineage. Draco sighed and tried to extricate himself from her tangle of limbs.

"I'm just tired." He lied, sitting in a single person armchair. Pansy failed, yet again, to get the message, and came over to sit in his lap.

"Hmm, me too… maybe we should take a nap?" she winked at him, Draco nearly vomited.

"You know how I feel about that-" He managed to say.

"If you would ask me out then we would be boyfriend and girlfriend! I don't believe you when you say you love me if you won't even be seen with me!"

"My parents-"

"Want you to be with a pure blood, I get it. I just wish that you could defy them for one time. Surely they will forgive you? A childhood relationsh-"

"I'm not a child!" Draco interrupted, throwing her off of his lap and escaping from the common room. He couldn't stand this. He knew that using her was wrong, but sometimes feeling loved felt nice, and having this unofficial relationship with her kept everyone else off his back. His parents would leave him alone, and other girls wouldn't ask him out. Pansy had learned not to. This was all she got, and it was more than anyone else.

Draco swept out of the common room without a real destination in mind, he just had to get away… from everyone. The windows showed him that outside it was bright and sunny, much too cheerful for Draco. The only thing he could think of was the Room of Requirement.

_I need an escape, I need an escape, I need an escape._

The door appeared and Draco walked into a dimly lit room. Inside was a fireplace, warm and golden. In front of the fireplace was an armchair, black leather. An end table rested next to the armchair with a picture frame, a journal, a quill, and an inkwell. The picture was of Harry… the room knew him too well. Draco settled into the armchair, finally able to relax.

"Thank you." He whispered to the walls, he always thanked the room, whether it heard him or not it still felt right.

Draco picked up the empty journal, and prepared the quill for writing. But the quill didn't touch the parchment, just hovered above it, allowing the words to flow freely from Draco's mind.

"It's just… I miss you so much Harry, I can feel myself losing my head. If my parents found out they would murder me; a Malfoy lose his head? Not a true Malfoy… Pansy. If only you knew how much she got on my nerves. Her face looks like a pug, and her manners are horrible. Nothing about her is the least bit attractive. Just the thought of actually being with her…. This is the one time in my life that I am okay with being a Malfoy, I can rid myself of her at least temporarily. I wish you were here, I would tell you everything. All of it. I would even show you my notes and poems. If you hadn't run away yet. But you winked at me, didn't you? You must love me.

"My grades are slipping. Only the favor of most of the teachers is keeping me from failing. The Carrows love me. I torture when they ask me too, and I normally try to get any Slytherin who might be in detention because they find my betrayal endearing." Draco hadn't written a word yet, none of this would be recorded, he was just talking to Harry, the pen in his hand alone was enough to free his entrapped thoughts, he knew this about himself, and so did the room.

"They sicken me, the lot of them. Even Snape is waltzing around the halls. He told me a secret awhile back. After I failed to kill Dumbledore. He called me into his office, I thought he would kill me before the Dark Lord had a chance. Snape was in love with your mum, Lily. Ever since boyhood he loved her. He told me that he had worked for Dumbledore ever since the night your parents died. He tried to save you, you know. Mostly your mum, because he hated you and your father, but it was all the same. The Dark Lord ignored his request for your safety and hunted you down. Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him, to save me, he was dying anyway. Dumbledore had planned his own death, making it a win for everyone… except you. I doubt that you would believe all of this, but it is true.

"Snape has been on your side all along. I guess I am kind of like him, a double agent. I suppose that is why he told me. But I haven't seen much of Snape lately. And it seems as though now that Dumbledore is gone so are his orders. Snape seems more of a Death Eater now than ever. Maybe he thinks he needs to be, but I think it is time for him to be on our side. We all need hope, and Snape is doing the opposite of what he should. People are being tortured, hunted down, and murdered, under his nose and on his watch. We need a leader, and with you possibly dead…"

Draco cut off, tears welling up in his eyes. He picked up the picture of Harry, gazing at those emerald orbs. The picture was unfamiliar. Harry was in a state that Draco had never seen him in before. His face was smudged with dirt and his hair was long and windswept. His eyes were red, but squinted and determined. He wore the same clothes he had left Malfoy Manor in. A rising sun gave an orange tint to his cheeks, and he sat on the edge of a sandy cliff. Draco glanced at the bottom right corner, the photo was dated the day after they had left his house. Harry was alive!

Draco wanted to scream out his joy, this was so perfect. He kissed the photo with fervor, more happy than he had been in the three weeks since he had seen Harry. Draco could tell that the photo was not posed, or taken by a wizard camera, as it did not move. This photo was provided by the Room of Requirement itself. Realizing this, Draco got up and began kissing the walls.

"Thank you so much, Room, I don't know what I would do without you," Draco beamed at the walls. "You know, you deserve a name… what does one name a room? Do you have a name?" A small slip of parchment fell from the indecipherable ceiling. "Aida? You are a girl? Hello Aida, I imagine you don't often get spoken to. Who named you?"

Another slip: 'Godric Gryffindor, I haven't been talked to since'

"I'm sorry about that, I will talk to you Aida, you have been so much nicer than I have deserved. So, again, thank you."

'Of course, it is what I was created for.'

Draco smiled at the message, "You were created for requirement, I didn't ask for that picture. That picture saved my life though. I have to go now, I have a paper due that I was too depressed to start, but I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?"

'Alright, I will see you then, thank you for being grateful.'

"Of course," Draco winked and left to go write a paper for Herbology.

When Draco returned at the same time the next day the room wouldn't let him in.

_I need an escape, I need an escape, I need an escape._

He paced quickly, trying to get in to Aida.

Maybe the room wouldn't let him in because he didn't really need an escape.

_I need to talk to you, Aida, I need to talk to you, Aida, I need to talk to you, Aida._

Nothing.

Had he insulted her yesterday? No, she had acted grateful, and kind to him.

Of course! Maybe someone else was in there, he would just come back later.

But over the course of the next week he visited Aida, and she wouldn't let him in, no matter what time it was that he visited. He even snuck off at night once, and almost got caught by Alecto Carrow. Draco couldn't imagine what he had done wrong. He had never even heard of the Room not letting people in.

Only the thought of Harry being alive kept Draco sane, it was bad enough that his best friend was a room, but now the room wouldn't talk to him. The days dragged and Pansy lingered around him. She was always waiting for him after class, she would take him to an empty classroom, or wake him in the middle of the night, or pass him love notes. Draco constantly resisted the urge to hex her.

It was the week after he met Aida, and it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Draco went into Zonko's and slipped a love potion in with his purchases. That night he nicked a cake from the kitchens and poured the love potion on it like a glaze. He was so done with Pansy. The next morning he gave it to her when she started dragging him out of the view of their peers.

"Eat this in your first class today." He whispered, slipping out of the room as she tried to kiss him.

The potion would make her fall in love with the first man she laid her eyes on, and Draco had a free period during her first class. He returned to breakfast and smiled, he would finally be rid of her.

Draco waited until the bell rang and then snuck off to Muggle Studies, Pansy's class. This should be good.

But it was five minutes after the bell and Pansy wasn't in her seat. Draco heard footsteps and started away from the door, surely it would be strange to be seen spying on a Muggle Studies class.

"Malfoy?" He winced and turned, only to look right at Pansy, the cake was on top of her books… it was half gone. He watched the glazed look come over her eyes.

"Oh no, no, no, no," Draco muttered, this was absolutely terrible.

"Oh, this cake that you made was _amazing_! You have _got_ to teach me the recipe! Maybe tonight? I know how to sneak into the kitchens, just you and me. And some house elves…. I had _no idea_ you could cook! You know, I _love_ a man who can cook," Pansy had dropped her books and was now inches from Draco, he shifted uncomfortably. He had no antidote, and this was madness.

"Um, not tonight, I have to… work on this method for antidotes in Potions. Yeah, I have a lot to do on it."

"Malfoy?" Pansy was breathing her ugly breath against his ear, Draco had backed up against the wall, there was nowhere else to go.

"What?" He asked physically pushing her back.

"I have Potions with you!" She smacked him across the face. "I know that we don't have some stupid antidote thing to be working on! If you hate me just say it to my face, I'd understand!" Draco heard her crying as she turned and ran from him. He honestly couldn't find it in his heart to care.

Unconsciously Draco went to the Room of Requirement. When he realized where his subconscious had taken him he racked his brain for what he needed. Only one thing came to mind.

_I need Harry Potter, I need Harry Potter, I need Harry Potter._

But no door appeared. All he had wanted was that photograph. At least. But the empty wall glared at him. He couldn't take it. He pounded on the wall. He kicked it and tears streamed down his face, he screamed, "Please! Please Aida! I'm so sorry! Forgive me, I beg you!"

But nothing changed. He cursed the door. How did he even know that photo was real? How would Aida have gotten it if it was? Harry was probably dead. Dead all because of his murderous aunt who would always have the favor of the Dark Lord. Draco hated her. Draco hated them all. They all worked against him, they plotted ways to get to him. He could never be normal, or straight, or good enough, he was supposed to be a sick, emotionless, murderous Malfoy. And they were determined to turn him into that. He was branded for life just by being born. And the only person who ever had a chance of overlooking that was dead. And his only friend was a room that wouldn't let him in.

Draco fell asleep against the wall. On the other side of that wall Neville, Seamus, and Colin Creevey slept. The ceiling leaked.

The next few weeks would have made Lucius proud. Draco Malfoy told people to call him Malfoy. Malfoy kept a stoic expression at all times unless smirking at someone in pain. He became an expert at the Cruciatus Curse, and he practiced it daily. He became the Carrows' favorite student. Malfoy paid attention in class and took extensive notes. At night he went through his spellbook and studied when there was no test. He wrote note after note to his fellow Slytherins, he tried to recruit them for the Dark Lord. Malfoy practiced Dark magic. Malfoy officially broke up with Pansy after giving her the antidote and her behavior didn't change. Malfoy started going out with the pure blood Astoria Greengrass. He bought her flowers and they held hands in public. They looked exactly like Lucius and Narcissa did; distant and loveless. A true Malfoy relationship.

After two weeks of this Draco was dying. He had given up on Harry's continued existence and had no reason to live. Draco wanted to die. Draco paced for hours in front of Aida, wanting only a noose with which to hang himself. But the room continued to ignore him. Draco's feet ached, but Malfoy relished in the pain.

The windows soon turned dark as the sun disappeared. The corridor was lit by two torches and the dim light only furthered Draco's depression. At some point in the night Draco could have sworn he heard cheering, but he was sure that it was just the lack of sleep getting to him.

Draco paced, the stone floor felt like it was moving into his feet with painful force, almost as if the floor itself hated him. Draco's vision blurred. Draco tripped. Draco stayed on the ground. Malfoy got up. Malfoy spit on the wall where Aida should appear. Malfoy walked back to the Slytherin common room. Malfoy found Astoria and kissed her until she couldn't breathe. Malfoy gathered his old minions, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy left the common room. Malfoy walked toward the Astronomy tower, he would die like Dumbledore, off of the Astronomy tower, the people who looked up to him most watching him die defenselessly. They were nearly to the tower's steps when they heard Amycus Carrow shouting and banging on a door. The Ravenclaw tower was just ahead of them.

"Should we go check it out Malfoy?" Crabbe asked, already heading that way.

"Why else do you think I brought you out in the middle of the night? A leisurely stroll?" Malfoy sneered at them before Draco could speak. Crabbe darted towards the stairs.

"Crabbe! Disillusion yourself, for Merlin's sake!" Malfoy whispered to the boy as they heard McGonagall trying to reason with Amycus. They snuck halfway up the steps, blending in with the walls. They tried to listen to the conversation. McGonagall opened the door and the words were lost. They descended the steps.

"Something must have happened, Amycus seemed very flustered." Malfoy muttered, taking over and plotting a path against whatever was happening.

"Why don't we go back and listen?" Goyle asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because, you troll, those steps aren't wide enough for us to hide and for them to get back down when they come, if we are going to go back then we might as well just shout out that we're out of bed!" Malfoy whispered violently. "Now, let's go toward Flitwick's office, if it is anything of consequence he will be summoned, and he is nearest." Crabbe and Goyle nodded dumbly, but they followed, so Malfoy didn't complain.

Sure enough, within twenty minutes a spectacled silver cat glided through his office door.

"Disillusion yourselves! Now!" Malfoy told them. They did as they were bidden, and Flitwick rushed out of his office. The three Slytherins followed him silently. They watched the Charms teacher nearly kill their headmaster and former head of house.

Crabbe lunged, but Malfoy was able to grab him before any real damage was done by the lumbering oaf. "You know Snape will beat them all," he muttered, as he secretly hoped the hook-nosed man wouldn't make it; the betrayal was rotting inside of him, and it produced a bitter taste in his mouth, but it made Malfoy smirk. The fight was raging all around, and they ducked to avoid each curse as it flew by. As one of the enchanted suits of armor crashed into the wall Draco thought he saw a sliver of tanned flesh, exactly like the ankle he had seen the year before on the train ride to Hogwarts. Harry was mere feet from him. But Malfoy sneered at Draco, and ran to catch up with the fight.

Draco and Malfoy both broke as they saw their headmaster retreat out the window; Draco because it meant that Severus had never meant to hurt them, that he had misjudged Severus's character, and Malfoy because the man he had looked up to most other than You-Know-Who himself was fighting for the wrong side.

Harry and Luna appeared from beneath Harry's cloak. Draco was so lost and shocked that he shrunk back into that small corner of his brain; Malfoy took over, once again needing to hold back his minions. This was important.

"Professor!" Harry shouted, his hands on his forehead, Draco yearned to comfort him. "Professor we've got to barricade the school, he's coming now!"

"Very well. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming," the other professors groaned and gasped at McGonagall's declaration. "Potter has work to do in the castle on Dumbledore's orders. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable while Potter does what he needs to do."

"You realize, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?" Flitwick squeaked. Crabbe grunted in approval.

"But we can hold him up." And the Slytherins were gone, being dragged behind a determined Malfoy. As soon as they were out of earshot Malfoy pulled them to the corridor wall.

"I think I know where Potter is heading to do whatever he's doing, but I need you two to patrol the corridors under Disillusionment charms for an hour and then meet me where we spent a good amount of time in 5th and 6th year. You know where I'm talking about?" Malfoy's brain was working in overdrive trying to imagine what Potter was doing. Draco was still crying joyfully, overcome with delirious elation.

"The kitchens?" Goyle asked hopefully. Malfoy resisted the urge to hit him.

"No! The corridor where Potter and his friends kept meeting, and then where I went to help the Dark Lord!" Draco whispered furiously. The boys nodded. "Stay together you two, and _don't_ get caught!"

They stumbled off down the corridor, and Malfoy shook his head disapprovingly before turning the opposite way and heading back to where he had been earlier, he went right back to Aida.

Malfoy sat just out of the lantern's pool of light, waiting for Potter to enter into view.

Before Malfoy had time to grow impatient Potter strutted up to Aida. Stupid bloody Potter just leaned against Aida's wall and she let him in, _why had that not worked for him?_

Nearly before he could stand up a multitude of Gryffindors and other Potter supporters exited the room, wands drawn and anxious to fight.

A wave of understanding washed over Draco as he watched Longbottom, Thomas, Creevey, Finnigan Lovegood, and all of the other missing former members of Potter's little gang walk out determinedly; Aida couldn't let him in because they had been _living_ there.

Malfoy didn't care.

They waited for another few minutes before a multitude of Weasley's trounced out of the room. Malfoy nearly blew his cover by shouting, "Dear _Salazar_, how many of you _are_ there?"

A confused and grimacing Potter followed them out, clutching his scar as he headed towards the Great Hall. Malfoy had no urge to reveal himself to so many people, and had agreed to meet Crabbe and Goyle here, so he stayed. He also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Harry would be back.

As they waited, Draco wouldn't shut up about apologizing to Aida, but Malfoy was merciless.

Within another ten minutes both Crabbe and Goyle appeared, Malfoy whispered at them to get down in the shadows, because even a Disillusionment Charm was nearly never perfect.

Another fifteen minutes passed and a scramble of students paraded up the stairs, heading towards Aida. Draco felt sympathy for the poor room. Malfoy feared that their position could be compromised. They remained silent as the multitude of students passed through the room, there must be some kind of exit there.

Not more than five minutes after the last student disappeared from sight the battle began, shaking and threatening the very foundations of the castle.

A little over ten minutes following that Potter appeared at the right end of the corridor as Granger and Weasley came sprinting down the left end, their arms were full of sharp, yellowed, curved bones and a battered broomstick.

Crabbe and Goyle snickered at the absurdity of the Weasel.

They were looking for Horcruxes. The word struck a chord in Malfoy's mind, as if Bellatrix had talked of them once, in awe of their power. They supposedly made the creator immortal, at the cost of another life. But once destroyed… they were useless.

This was how they were defeating The Dark Lord.

The trio went through into the Room of Requirement. Crabbe and Goyle got up as if to follow, them, but Malfoy knew that there were still some people in there that had to be out of the way, otherwise Potter would have needed to pace a bit before Aida would let him in.

The walls shook and one of the two lanterns in the corridor was shaken out of it holder. It crashed to the floor, setting fire to a paint canvas that had fallen, a witch screamed as her home was consumed.

"_Aguamenti_!" Malfoy—_Draco_? hissed, a small stream of water hit the fire, extinguishing it before it could set fire to the dozens of other frames that had fallen in the battle.

An old woman displaying atrocious headwear emerged from the Room, charging down the corridor with a furious war cry.

Malfoy's disowned cousin Tonks, and the Weaslette exited the Room soon after, fighting from the windows at the masses below.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger followed within two minutes, the last two appearing marginally flushed and holding hands. Potter looked slightly uncomfortable in the split second it took for the feeling of battle to wash over him once again.

Draco thought Harry made quite a poor third wheel…

An old man with sickening hair trotted past the three Slytherins, leading a cluster of students and whining about some giants. Malfoy scoffed. Potter flashed a friendly smile after the elder.

Draco melted.

Tonks ran after the old man. The Weaslette looked lost. The famous Gryffindors began to run in front of Aida.

Malfoy waited three minutes, checked for the long gone little Weasley, and ushered his minions through the door. A scrap of paper immediately fell to Malfoy's feet.

Draco picked it up, hopeful.

'I'm so sorry, I had no choice….'

Draco was prepared to forgive her, but Malfoy took over again and scoffed at the singed piece of parchment.

Malfoy spotted the infamous Vanishing Cabinet, and continued past it, listening desperately for Potter's distinct breaths.

For that singular moment, the two of them- Draco and Malfoy- thought as one.

Then they found him. And Malfoy was too strong for Draco to break through.

"Hold it, Potter." Harry froze and turned to face them_. Why was Draco here? But no, this isn't Draco, Draco doesn't talk to Harry like that, Draco's eyes aren't this hard, not around Harry they aren't. Draco loves Harry, he told him so…_

"That's my wand you're holding, Potter," Malfoy accused from behind his bodyguards.

"Not anymore. Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?" Harry—no Potter was panting heavily.

"My mother," said Draco, unable to lie to Harry.

Harry—_Potter_, laughed. "Why aren't you three with Voldemort?"

"We're gonna be rewarded. We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im." Crabbe couldn't keep his childish mouth shut.

"Good plan," Potter replied sarcastically. "So how did you get in here?" Malfoy watched Potter's slow movements away from them.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year, I know how to get in." Malfoy scoffed.

"We was hiding in the corridor outside. We can do Diss-lusion Charms now!" Goyle was getting excited, like he was about to get thrown into a candy shop. _They were saying too much. _"And then, you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

"Harry?" Weasley's voice rang out over the mountains of junk. "Are you talking to someone?"

Crabbe foolishly tried to kill all of them, "_Descendo!_" The wall began to sway and fall.

"Ron!" Draco watched helplessly as Harry grew more and more distressed. Granger screamed in the distance. "_Finite!_" Harry steadied the wall. Crabbe made to slice through the air again, but Draco stopped him, a shocked Malfoy being tossed into the recesses of his mind.

"No! If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!" Draco grasped at straws to keep his cover.

"What's the matter? It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?" Crabbe yanked himself from Draco's grasp.

"Potter came in here to get it so that must mean-" It made perfect sense to Draco, even though the excuses were not the real reason behind his actions.

"'Must mean'? Who cares what you think? I don't take orders from you no more _Draco_. You an' your dad are finished." Crabbe's words didn't sting, but they meant dangerous things, Crabbe was going to kill them all if he began to think for himself.

"Harry? What's going on?" Ron called through the junk wall.

"Harry?" mimicked Crabbe poorly. "What's going—_no_, Potter! _Crucio!_"

Draco nearly lost his grip on his mind as Harry lunged, the curse mercifully missing him. A tiara sparkled through the air and out of sight.

"STOP!" Draco screamed, all composure lost. "The Dark Lord wants him alive—"

"So? I'm not killing him am I? But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, so what's the diff—" Granger shot a spell at Crabbe, and even in his anger Draco pulled him out of the line of fire.

"It's that Mudblood! _Avada Kedavra!_"

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" Draco screamed as the battle broke out and his mother's wand rolled uselessly onto the ground, rolling beneath a mound of trashed furniture and books.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry shouted, and Draco's heart jumped with glee.

Draco hid, defenseless as spells were shot from every wand. In the noise of the battle Draco missed Harry's next words, but Granger's were unmistakable:

"HARRY!" Draco turned to see an all-consuming fire raging behind Weasley and Crabbe, who shouted out taunts despite the fear in his eyes.

"_Aguamenti_!" cried Harry desperately, but only a cloud of steam came from the end of his wand.

"RUN!"

Draco grabbed a Stunned Goyle and struggled after his peers, Crabbe far ahead of them, unable to control what he'd done.

As the fire surrounded them Draco looked helplessly about for some means of escape, all the while praying that Harry would make it. Draco began ascending a tall and sturdy looking pile of couches, beds, trunks, and desks.

Hopeless for anything else to do Draco screamed. "HELP! _Help!_ Please save us! _HARRY!_" The fire climbed the tower of junk, consuming everything and singing Draco's eyebrows.

And then there was Harry. He came back for them! Draco held up his hand, but it was too slick with sweat for Harry to grab hold of it. Draco coughed violently as the smoke began to clog his lungs.

Weasley and Granger—_Ron and Hermione_ saved Goyle from his arms as the fire grew towards them. Draco was left on the flaming stacks, waiting for Harry to save him yet again.

And Harry dove, and Draco leapt with all of his strength onto the clumsy broom that was the only thing keeping them alive. And as Draco marveled at the firm strength of Harry's chest and arms beneath his clutching hands a little bit of Malfoy broke through, a kind of last breath before being eternally extinguished.

"The door, get to the door, the door!" Malfoy screamed, Draco wanting to trust Harry, but in near full agreement as Harry did a hairpin turn, almost throwing Draco from the broom. "_What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!_" Malfoy croaked the words as the smoke infiltrated his lungs.

But Harry Bloody Potter always had to get his way, and grabbed the stupid diadem in mid-air before making, yet another, wild swerve to the door. Draco Malfoy screamed in panic and clutched to Harry probably more than was comfortable, but the fire reached and stretched up to them, wanting to catch them before—

They were out. They gulped lungfuls of the comparatively clean air beyond the Room of Requirement.

Draco fell from the broom, laying facedown and retching out the putrid air. Harry lay on his back, panting. Ron, and Hermione lay spluttering next to an unconscious Goyle.

"C-Crabbe," choked out Draco as soon as he could breathe. "C-Crabbe…"

"He's dead," Ron spat. Of course Draco knew this, he had been trying to summon up the strength to apologize. As Draco tried to summon up the courage to explain this to them Harry suddenly stood, looking around frantically.

"Where's Ginny? She was here. She was supposed to be going back into the Room of Requirement." Harry peered down the corridor, hoping he would find a flash of long, red hair.

"Blimey, d'you reckon it'll still work after that fire?" Ron muttered, barely caring, but something snapped within Draco, a sudden mantra began in his smoke clogged mind.

'_No, no Aida has to work, she can't be dead. No, no Aida has to work, she can't be dead. No, no Aida has to—_'

"What Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, the blonde must have begun saying things out loud, but in response he just rolled to Aida's wall, not allowing for this to be happening.

"Aida? Aida?! Are you there? Please, please don't die, don't let this happen I'm sorry for Crabbe and his stupid impulses, I'm sorry for not being able to control him, I'm sorry for becoming angry with you, but you can't do this. I need you!" Draco pounded on the hard stone wall with his hands, but there was no response. Draco put his back to the wall and leaned against it, no longer having the strength to keep him standing anymore, his only friend was dead. The man he loved was frantically searching for some red-haired princess, and his family was going to die.

Since Draco was broken enough to apologize he realized that if he owed anyone an apology it was the man who was standing before him clenching his fists and running his fingers through his jet black hair.

"I…. I am so sorry Harry." Draco locked eyes with his love for a few short seconds before dropping his head in complete and utter shame.

Harry Potter lost it.

It had been something for Draco to have a fit over the Room dying, to show the three Gryffindors that he did have a heart, a heart that loved and cared, and yearned to protect.

It had been another thing for Draco to start screaming pleading apologies at the wall.

It had nearly been too much to see Draco give up, to look so entirely broken.

But it was far, far, too much for Draco to look into his eyes, use his first name, and say the words that had been fuel to so many fantasies before.

Harry bit his lip, but moved so quickly that it couldn't be qualified as hesitation. Draco had slumped to the floor with his head in his hands, but Harry lifted his head and kissed his lips so softly. Draco's tears of defeat echoed emptily in the recesses of his eyes, none having gained enough power to fall down to the earth.

Draco did not let Harry pull back as he had intended to.

All of the defeat, grief, pain, loneliness, love, passion, adoration, anger, heartbreak, and hope poured out of Draco and into that kiss. Because there had never been a time when Harry had not been enough to get him through, when Harry had not saved him, lifted him up, loved him. And even though Draco had covered his impulses towards Harry with foolish excuses that Harry would surely choose someone better, Draco had never believed any of them since he heard Harry say that he would always love him.

Because Harry didn't lie in the dark when he thought no one was listening.

As Draco thought about the thousands of times he had imagined kissing Harry- _in class, during breakfast, on a random London street, in Diagon Alley, in the corridor_- he stood them both up, throwing Harry against the wall. Harry moaned, and it was more delicious that Draco had ever imagined. Draco threw his hands into the soft, black locks, one hand traveling down to explore Harry's muscular chest.

And Harry thought of how many nights he had cried over the loss of Draco, over what could never be, over the boy that was surely dead; Harry's tongue traced Draco's bottom lip, feeling every curve and crack that tasted of strawberries, and a spring drizzle. Harry could have basked in that taste for eternity, and as Draco willingly opened his mouth Harry it seemed as though it just might happen.

As their oxygen level was slowly depleted both men realized their desperate need for air. Harry finally grasped the strength to pull away just before one of them passed out from joy and lack of oxygen. Their foreheads rested against each other, and they were vaguely aware that somewhere off in the distance there was loud noise, and a pair of shocked young adults, but for now this was their moment, and not even a bloody war could disrupt it.

"I never got to say it…. But I love you too Harry." Draco whispered, watching the boy's green eyes widen mere inches from his own.

"You…you heard that? So many years ago?" Harry blushed, embarrassed at how close he had been that night. "But… you did say it, in the letter." Molten grey eyes hardened:

"What letter?" Draco watched in disbelief as a piece of poorly folded and very creased paper was extricated from a small pouch around Harry's neck. As Draco scanned the paper irritation broke out across his features. "Bloody Dobby must have sent this, he doesn't even work for me anymore!"

Harry watched in ecstasy as a vein in Draco's neck popped out, something that had only ever come out during their more intense fights. Harry kissed and sucked at the small section of flesh, the smooth, soft skin rolling easily over his tongue. Draco tilted his head back against the wall as Harry sent electrical waves across his skin that traveled straight down to the pit of his stomach.

"Mmm… Harry…" Draco couldn't stop the words, or the way his lips caressed over Harry's name, like it was the most precious treasure in the world.

Ron could stand absolutely no more, and Hermione had lost the will to stop him.

"OI! Lovebirds! I don't know if you've noticed but we're fighting a war here!" Ron spat Harry's words back at him.

"Exactly," replied Harry as he placed one more kiss to Draco's lips, and without missing a beat continued, "That means it's now or never, right?"

**A/N: to me it feels like a lot of build up to very little resolution, is that just me? I'll gladly do a spicy epilogue if it's requested.**


End file.
